


under the light of a thousand stars

by pockethans



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 2.7k words of full F L U F F, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, First Kiss, Fluff, Han Jisung | Han is Whipped, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, M/M, Milkshakes, Mutual Pining, Stargazing, changbin is mentioned v briefly, copious usage of the word "hell", in conclusion: theyre both whipped, slight crackish elements bc whats a skz fic without some humor am i right, the title is awful im sorry i couldnt come up with anything better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 07:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19970014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pockethans/pseuds/pockethans
Summary: “Jisung,” Minho deadpans, “it’s 11:00 PM on a school night, inNovember, and you’re asking me to come along with you to satisfy your late-night cravings?”Jisung at least has the decency to look sheepish. “Yes?”





	under the light of a thousand stars

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this late last night with an awful headache but it's the first full thing ive written in a very very V e r y long time and im sort of proud of it aklsjdkas i've had this idea for like,,, a year i cant believe it took me this long to actually write it
> 
> huge shout out to [hyengold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyengold/pseuds/hyengold) for reading this over for me <3 ily ! i recommend you check out her works uwu theyre great. i dont wanna make this any longer so uh !! please enjoy this mess

Minho is about halfway through his English essay when there’s a knock at the door.

Normally, Minho wouldn’t bat an eye at it, and he’d head right on over to open the door and greet whoever's on the other side. Now, he hesitates, for two good reasons. Number one: it’s 11:00 PM on a Thursday, and who in their right mind would knock on someone’s door this late at night?

Number two: his English essay is due tomorrow. Bear in mind that it's currently 11:00 PM. His class is at 9:30 AM on Friday. If it had been up to him, he would’ve taken the class in the evening. Even the afternoon would’ve been more bearable.

(Technically, it had been up to him; he had chosen his classes and their subsequent times. However, his English class only had a 9:30 AM option on Fridays or an afternoon one on Saturdays. and hell if he was going to have class on the weekend.)

He’s reminded of reality when there’s another, more timid knock at the door. At least it isn’t someone with important news; if it were urgent, they’d probably be banging on the door. With a sigh, Minho gives in, abandoning his essay to shuffle towards the door. He mumbles out a “coming” to make sure the person knows _not_ to knock again (he doesn’t want to know what’ll happen if Changbin wakes up) and he curses the dorm doors for not having a peephole before cracking the door open to peek at who’s on the other side. If it’s a burglar, he’s going to riot.

Instead, it’s Han Jisung, one of Minho’s best friends (and crush, but that’s an incredibly minor detail) looking at Minho with wide eyes. His fist is raised as if he were about to knock on the door again. Minho pulls the door open further.

“Jisung? What the hell?”

Jisung squeaks and immediately rushes into an apology. “Shit, did I wake you up? Sorry, I knew this was a bad idea. I guess I could’ve texted you, but I would’ve felt worse if I had woken you up because of it. At least now you can slap me in the face for waking you up instead of sending me angry texts.” He rambles.

Bewildered, Minho holds his hands up. “Woah woah, slow down. You didn’t wake me up.”

It’s almost comical how Jisung deflates at those words. But then, he straightens back up and squints at Minho. “Why the hell are you awake then?”

Minho rolls his eyes. “I’m an adult, I can do whatever the hell I want.” When Jisung only narrows his eyes further, Minho relents. “English essay.”

Jisung nods with a small “ah”.

“Well then, why the hell are _you_ awake. And why are you standing here?”

Minho watches Jisung with a raised eyebrow as he shuffles his foot against the hall carpet. He’s clearly nervous about something; if the way he’s worrying his bottom lip didn’t give it away, then the stutter in his voice when he responds definitely does. “I- I was wondering if you wanted to get some milkshakes with me?” He peers at Minho. “I’ve been craving one.”

_What the hell._ “Jisung,” Minho deadpans, “it’s 11:00 PM on a school night, _in November,_ and you’re asking me to come along with you to satisfy your late-night cravings?”

Jisung at least has the decency to look sheepish. “Yes?” 

Minho stares at Jisung for another second, blinking slowly, before sighing. “Give me ten minutes to not look like I’ve been to hell and back. You can wait on the couch.”

Jisung snickers. “You always look like you’ve been to hell and back.” He darts into the living room before Minho has the chance to even register what he had said.

“You brat.” Minho hisses as he walks into the living space to see Jisung curled up on the couch in a fit of giggles. “You’re lucky Changbin’s asleep and I value my life, or else you’d _so_ be dead.”

Jisung sticks his tongue out and Minho flips him off in return. If his heart flutters a bit when he retreats into his room, though, that’s no one’s business.

He eyes his laptop as he walks to his closet, his half-finished essay staring him down. He can feel the disappointment radiating off of it. _Don’t leave me half-finished_ , the essay whispers in his head, in a voice that sounds suspiciously like his English professor’s.

“Sorry, essay. You’re gonna have to wait just a bit longer.”

—

“Why’d you ask me to come along?” Minho asks while they’re in the drive-through line for CookOut. Jisung had wanted to go to Chick-fil-A, but after several minutes of arguing with Minho and the older insisting that he refused to go near that “sad, homophobic excuse of a restaurant,” Jisung had caved and took them to the next best place, but not without grumbling about how _he_ was the one with the milkshake craving.

Jisung really should’ve seen the question coming, but it still takes him by surprise. How is he supposed to answer that without spilling the fact that he’s been harboring a crush on him for the last year and a half?

“I wanted to spend time with you.” It’s not a lie. “We haven’t had much time to hang out lately.” That’s also not a lie. Jisung can’t remember the last time the two of them had hung out without any of their other friends. Not that hanging out with their friends sucks, although it does when they decide to bully him, but he’s missed spending time with just Minho.

Minho nods, seemingly satisfied. “Damn right we haven’t. College sucks.”

Jisung snorts. “You can say that again.”

“College sucks,” Minho repeats with a grin on his face. Jisung reaches over and slaps his arm.

“Not what I meant!”

A few minutes later, they have their milkshakes secured and they’re driving down the street back towards the dorms. Jisung sips his vanilla milkshake, a simple flavor, but a classic nonetheless, while Minho eats the cherry off his mint chocolate chip one.

“Thanks,” Minho says out of nowhere. Jisung glances over at him and is completely caught off guard by the way Minho’s looking at him, eyes soft and smile small. His poor heart can’t handle the sight. He’s going to combust. This was a horrible idea.

“Y-You’re welcome,” he replies, before sticking the straw back into his mouth to avoid any further conversation and potential embarrassment on his part.

As they approach the dorms, an idea suddenly strikes Jisung. He just hopes Minho won’t hate him for it.

When they reach the street they’re supposed to turn into, Jisung continues straight ahead.

“Jisung? That was our turn.” Minho sounds horribly confused, and it’s enough to make Jisung want to turn back around and scrap this whole idea. He’s _so_ whipped.

“I know,” he replies in what he hopes in a calm, confident tone. He risks a glance at Minho, whose eyebrows furrow.

“Why didn’t you turn then?”

“I wanna show you something.”

Minho looks at him incredulously. “I don’t recall promising to come out for both milkshakes _and_ a surprise. I have homework, Sung.”

Jisung bites his lip, holding back a “sorry” that’s on the tip of his tongue. “I-I know, but it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

Minho huffs and leans back into his seat. “It better be,” he grumbles with a pout, and Jisung wants to coo from how adorable the sight is, but he’s already ruffled Minho’s feathers enough, so he turns his attention back to the street.

—

Minho wants to be mad, truly. He had been planning to get back to his essay as soon as they had gotten their milkshakes. Clearly, Minho was a fool to think that Jisung would let him escape his clutches so easily.

He wants to be mad, but he can’t bring himself to be, because now he has an excuse to spend more time with Jisung. Jisung, who has his full attention on the road and yet is still clearly distracted by whatever he wants to show him. Without thinking about it, Minho reaches out and rests a hand on his shoulder.

Probably not the smartest idea, considering Jisung is currently driving and is already stressed out enough, but Minho’s _whipped_ , and whenever he’s around Jisung, all his logic gets promptly thrown out the window and stomped on.

“It’s fine,” he reassures, because honestly, it is, “urbanization and its reasons for spreading over the last century can wait.”

To his delight, Jisung cracks a smile. “Yeah, I guess they can.” Minho mentally pumps a fist into the air.

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes longer, and although Minho wants to fill it with words, he can’t find the right ones to use. So he settles for keeping his hand on Jisung’s shoulder and taking occasional sips of his milkshake. He isn’t really paying attention to their surroundings until Jisung suddenly stops the car.

In the middle of a _field_.

“What the hell?” Minho says for what is probably the tenth time (at least) that night. “You dragged me out here to show me some _grass_?”

Minho hadn’t wanted to be mad, but he’s seriously starting to consider strangling Jisung.

Jisung, however, to his dismay, _laughs_. “No, you dumbass. Look up.”

Minho scoffs and shifts himself so he can look out the window. “I’ll make sure to tell God to have mercy on you when I-“ He cuts himself off. “Holy shit.” He whispers.

Because outside his window, up above him, are billions of stars.

His jaw is hanging open when he turns his head to look back at Jisung. He’s fidgeting in his seat, and Minho wants to think there’s a faint tint of red on his cheeks, but the lighting is so bad it's probably his imagination.

“There isn’t much light pollution here.” He gestures to their surroundings; sure enough, there’s hardly a building or lamp post in sight. “You can’t see them that well on campus. But out here…” He trails off and looks at Minho with a shy smile, and it makes Minho's stomach turn. “I come out here sometimes. To write. Or just… get away from it all.”

He doesn’t specify what exactly it is that he gets away from, but Minho doesn’t need him to. He understands completely. “Have you brought anyone else here?” He asks. He shouldn’t care if he has; it’s a beautiful place, and he knows there’s plenty of times where their friends would need the serenity of it.

But Jisung shakes his head. “I want to. Someday.” He adds. He inhales shakily before continuing, “but it’s just you for now.”

And Minho’s heart shouldn’t be skipping so many beats. He briefly wonders if that’s healthy. It can’t be, especially not with the way his whole body is burning, hot enough to fry an egg. He sips on his milkshake in hopes that it’ll cool him down. Then, in a split-second decision, he opens the car door and slides out.

“Minho?” Jisung yelps, leaning over to see what he’s doing.

“I want to see them better.” Minho points to the sky, and Jisung relaxes, nodding. He gets out of the car as well.

“I have a blanket in the trunk,” he calls out, and Minho almost questions _why_ before he remembers that the younger had said he came out here often. He instead tilts his head up and tries to find a constellation he can actually recognize, as the crisp November air cools his hot skin.

Jisung arrives with a blanket rolled up in his arms. He pokes Minho with his shoe to get him to move, and Minho obliges, stepping out of the way. Once Jisung has the blanket laid out, he runs back to the car to grab his milkshake. Minho sits himself down, setting his drink beside him and glancing back up at the sky.

He feels Jisung’s presence beside him, body pressed up beside his, and he’s only now realizing how small the blanket is. It’s definitely not meant for two people.

Still, he’d rather overheat than move, so he wills the blush away continues staring at the stars.

Minho’s a city kid. He lives in the crowd, filled with lights and noise, far far away from nature, and while he hated it as a kid, he had grown to love it.

But this, surrounded by stars and wind and _nature_ , with Jisung by his side, he doesn’t have to learn to love it. He already does.

“That’s Cassiopeia.” Jisung points up to a particular cluster of stars, and Minho follows where he’s pointing. “Those five stars over there. Can you see it?”

It takes him a second, but he eventually finds the zigzag that makes up Cassiopeia. “Yeah.”

“And that one is Pegasus.” He moves his arm slightly, and Minho follows the movement. He nods when he finds the constellation, and with a smile, glances back at Jisung.

The stars are reflecting in his eyes, the moonlight is bathing him in a silver glow, and he looks so incredibly at peace and happy, and the stars may be beautiful, but Jisung is the prettiest thing Minho has ever seen.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Jisung mumbles, eyes not once leaving the sky.

“Yeah,” he whispers, eyes trained on Jisung, “it is.”

At some point, Minho’s head finds his way onto Jisung’s shoulder, blush be damned, and Jisung’s arm ends up around Minho’s waist. Jisung talks a bit about the times he’s come out to the field, and how he found it. Minho listens, and even as his eyes start to droop, he continues to focus all his attention on the younger.

Then, Jisung whispers, so softly that Minho probably wouldn’t have heard it if he hadn’t had his head on his shoulder.

“I kinda wanna kiss you.”

Minho’s sleep-muddled brain doesn’t register the words fully, and he assumes he misheard, so he responds with what he would’ve responded with if he had heard correctly. “What are you waiting for then?”

It’s only when Minho feels Jisung tense up under him that he realizes what had just happened. He slowly picks up his head to look at Jisung, who’s gaping at him.

Minho has the strong urge to bury himself in the nearest hole, but he stands his ground. He gives Jisung the best confident smirk he can muster, even though his insides feel like they’re melting. “I meant what I said, you know.”

When Jisung doesn’t move, his confidence falters. He wets his lips with a frown.

“I mean if you didn’t, that’s fine, but-“

That’s all Minho manages to say before Jisung closes the distance between them. It’s soft, slow, tastes like some weird combination of mint and vanilla, and so uncoordinated and so _perfect_.

Jisung pulls away, and under the stars, with the November wind ruffling their hair, Minho closes the gap again.

—

Minho, being the absolute disaster of a college student he is, arrives at English class five minutes before the bell with a thermos of coffee in one hand and his B.S.-ed essay in the other. He barely turns in it on time, ignoring the disappointed glare his professor gives him as he collapses in his chair with a groan, already feeling his eyes droop shut.

He wants to sleep _so_ badly, having had to stay up all night to finish the godforsaken essay. But a certain Han Jisung had promised him cuddles and kisses if he makes it through all his classes, so he powers on despite wanting to bang his head into a wall.

(“You _better_ give me kisses,” Minho huffs, pulling his jacket over his shoulders, “you’re the reason I had to stay up to finish the essay, after all.”

“Yeah yeah,” Jisung grins and snakes his arm around Minho’s waist to pull him into a short kiss, “it was worth it though, right?”)

It was absolutely worth it, but Minho didn’t give Jisung that satisfaction, instead shrugging his shoulders and bolting out the door before Jisung could berate him.

Minho has a feeling that even if he didn’t make it through classes, he’s still going to end up with Jisung in his arms later that day, but it’s good motivation.

And if there’s a smile on his face even as his professor drones on about the usage of commas and semicolons, well, that’s no one’s business.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @sincerelyncity (i'm never active, but feel free to drop by!)
> 
> i hope you enjoyed ♡


End file.
